Home with You
by FairDrea
Summary: After watching his bros shoot down an all-too-tempting offer from Charley to join her over Thanksgiving, Modo takes a chance. One step in the right direction with the mere hope that his courage will allow him to continue walking until his heart has what its wanted for too long. Modo/Charley - rating will change once things start to pick up and get a little more adult.
1. Clueless

A/N: I totally miss this fandom. And I really really miss writing the guys. That being said...the idea of Modo and Charley got stuck in my head this weekend and was relentless. So much so that the idea of a fic sprung from an idea of the pairing after searching the fandom for some fodder to ease my sudden craving. So, here you have it - me giving into my muse and letting another plot bunny take charge. Damn plot bunnies.

Disclaimer: I do now own BMFM and make no profit from the writing of this fic.

**Chapter One : Clueless**

It had been looking to be a pretty quiet night at the scoreboard. Which was exactly what Modo, oldest of the Biker Mice, had been looking forward to. A few root beers, a western or two – a perfect night as far as he was concerned. Then Charley-girl had showed up with a question and all hopes of a quiet night were shattered.

"Clueless? Whaddaya mean, clueless?"

Modo watched his youngest bro, Vinnie flop down on the couch with a root beer.

Throttle wasn't far behind him. He rounded the couch, opting to stand across from the white-furred Martian and although he wore his field shades, his glare was obvious. "I mean, it doesn't take a genius to realize that Charley-girl was looking for you to join her," he snapped irritably.

Modo pressed back into the worn confines of the recliner, choosing to stay as far out of the argument brewing as possible.

"Excuse me, but I never heard the words 'Vinnie, come to Thanksgiving Dinner and meet my family,' leave her mouth. Besides - me and Charley, we're not like that. Why would she want me to meet her family?" He leaned back, saluting Throttle with his bottle before taking a long pull from it. "If you ask me, Throttle, _you're_ the one she's probably wanting to introduce to them which would make _you_ the clueless one."

"Me?" Throttle released a bark of laughter. "Carbine-,"

"Is on another planet and whatever _honorable_ line you're walkin' is a pretty damn thin one. I've seen the attention you give to Charley. Ain't that hard to misinterpret it."

"Vincent, do you even know what the word misinterpret means?"

The root beer bottle slammed against the table and Modo decided it was high time to make a hasty retreat. Fights like this between Throttle and Vinnie never ended well and he never made it a habit to stick around to watch them.

As almost an afterthought, he picked the phone up from the coffee table and took it with him to his room. The voices rose and he pulled his door closed behind him, muffling them. Two stubborn men with not even the slightest intelligent thought between then. At least not when it came to Charley-girl.

She'd left there nearly an hour ago after having coyly hinted that she'd appreciate some company besides family this Thanksgiving. To Modo, it hadn't sounded like a request specific to any of them. It had sounded like the request of a woman who wasn't entirely sold on the idea of being around her family without a little moral support. But Vinnie had immediately started in on how he and Charley weren't exactly in that "meet the parents" place while Throttle had gone on about the possible dangers of introducing themselves to even more humans. The look on Charley's face could have frozen Mars ten times over. His excuse was exactly that- an excuse. Too many people knew about them for caution to be an issue and although they faced some bigotry on an unfortunately normal basis, they were overall accepted by the human population. In the end, she'd walked out while they were still arguing their points, the slam of the door finally silencing them.

With a deep sigh, Modo sank down on the bed and rubbed a hand over his face. They were both clueless…and stupid to boot. But he was one to talk. Here they had a beautiful, intelligent woman who made it seem like she had nothing better to do than hang out with them and fix their bikes and not a single one of them had made a move.

Vinnie had been given more than enough opportunities. He'd flirted the woman into the ground and still kept this strange distance between himself and Charley that both of them seemed to understand and yet not understand at the same time. And he could deny it all he wanted, but Throttle was just as guilty. He wasn't as bad as Vinnie had made it sound, but he definitely had his way with Charley that teetered dangerously between just friends and something more.

And there they both were – passing up yet another opportunity to be something more to the lovely mechanic.

Modo looked down at the phone, his thumb hovering over the talk button. Did he want to keep being one of the clueless ones? One of the ones that didn't take a chance to hope for something more? He'd been doing it for nearly two years now. Two incredibly long years.

Vinnie may have had his way with Charley. And Throttle may have had his way with Charley. But neither of them had a _thing_ for her – not the way Modo did. And it was a thing he'd been diligently trying to ignore for too long now. Out of respect for Vinnie, he'd kept quiet. If there was one thing you didn't do, it was go after the girl your bro was settin' his sights on. But all those mixed signals and one night stands had added up and that need to stay respectful towards his youngest bro had started to waver.

Maybe now was a good time to just…stop.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the phone on and dialed Charley's number. She answered on the third ring, her voice tired.

"Hey, Charley-girl."

"Modo." Her voice instantly softened. "Sorry for leaving so quickly."

"No need to apologize. Sorry about the knuckleheads."

She chuckled softly and he swallowed, the sound causing his stomach to clench slightly with something he immediately recognized as longing. It went hand-in-hand with wanting the poor girl to distraction and was just another emotion he'd learned to tamp down.

"Yes, well…I tried."

"That's what I'm callin' about." He cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. "I was ah…wonderin' if that offer to go with you for Thanksgiving-."

The shouting in the living room escalated dramatically and he winced.

"Was that…Throttle and Vinnie?"

"Yeah…does that offer still stand?"

There was a pause on the other end and he swore he could hear her smiling that smile that melted every inch of him. "It does."

"Well…I'll take you up on it."

"Oh, you will, huh?"

A door slammed quickly followed by another and Modo grimaced. The argument was over for now. Lord knew what they had yet to go over and he was more than happy to find a way out of watching round two.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Alright. Pack for a week and I'll pick you up in the morning."

Modo hung up, then sat staring at the phone. A week with Charley. It was one step in the right direction. Now…if he could only find the courage to keep walking.


	2. Road Trip

**A/N:** So, I'm pretty much in love with this couple right now. They're easy to write, adorable to deal with and although I might change my mind later and be cussing them into oblivion, right now they're quite favorable and I always enjoy writing favorable characters! J  
Thanks to everyone for your reviews and support! It keeps me going as much as Modo and Charley do!

**Chapter Two: Road Trip**

Snow was just starting to drift from the low hanging clouds as Charley pulled her blazer up to the score board. The sun wasn't entirely up yet, leaving the mid-morning darkness to linger which had been nearly impossible to wake up to. As difficult as it had been to get out of bed, the trip from Chicago to Ashland, Wisconsin was a long one so she hadn't really had a choice in the matter. She'd debated leaving later in the day so that she could just crash when she got to her parents but with Modo coming along and the chance for someone to slip into the garage under the radar to give her last minute work, leaving early had made more sense.

With a yawn, she started to turn the blazer off when a movement from the scoreboard caught her eye. Modo was making his way over to her, a bag slung over his back. He'd wisely chosen to put a jacket on before leaving which made Charley smile. She remembered nagging them continually to wear warmer clothing as the weather started to turn and they hadn't listened to her, assuring her that "big strong mice" didn't need extra clothing when they had a layer of fur to keep them warm. They'd seriously underestimated a Chicago winter.

"Hey, big guy," she greeted affectionately as he pulled the door open, tossed his bag in the back seat and slid into the warm confines of the blazer.

"Mornin' Charley-ma'am," he returned with a smile.

"You sure you want to leave 'Lil Hoss here? I can run home to hook up the trailer and we could bring her with."

"Appreciate it, but we had a little heart-to-heart last night. She'll be alright. Besides, not like I'd have much of a chance to take her out with all the snow up that way."

Charley hummed in response, sliding the gear stick into reverse and backing out into the street. Wisconsin had been hit by a storm a week or so back that had been large enough to make the news. Her parents had been snowed in for two days and electricity had gone out in half the town of Ashland. Though power had been restored after only a few hours and the community had easily survived the two days, the snow had stuck around.

"I was going to stop for coffee before we leave town. Did you want anything?"

Modo reached down, adjusting the seat to give himself more leg room. "I sure wouldn't mind gettin' something to eat. Can I use your phone?"

Charley frowned. "Um, sure," she said, digging in her purse where it rested on the consul between them. She handed it to Modo and watched as he awkwardly dialed a number and hit send. He settled back in the seat, his fingers drumming his thigh restlessly as he waited.

The phone rang several times before someone picked up and the drumming stopped.

"Hey Throttle, it's Modo. Yeah…I'm…not there. Took Charley up on her offer to spend Thanksgiving at her parent's. Yeah…I did. Well…no, but-." He sighed as Throttle cut him off, his voice slightly raised but not to the point that Charley could understand what he was saying. "It's a week, Throttle. Listen, she was lookin' for some support and figured if you two were gonna be idiot's about it, I sure wouldn't mind stuffin' myself with turkey and pumpkin pie while you guys eat left overs and watch re-runs." He took a deep breath and set his jaw before continuing. "I'll be careful. You two just stay out of trouble while I'm gone so I don't have to high-tail it back to pull you out of it. And quit fightin'. I know, Throttle…I know. Okay. I'll check in. You guys have a good Thanksgivin'."

He disconnected the call and handed the phone back to Charley, releasing a deep breath and sagging into the seat as he did so.

There wasn't another word spoken between them until they were on the freeway with the furnace blasting hot air, the smell of coffee and various pastries surrounding them and music playing softly from the speakers. The sun had, by that time, drifted into the horizon and the snow glittered as it cast its rays over the passing landscape.

"So," Charley started cautiously. "You didn't tell Throttle and Vinnie you were coming with me?"

Modo didn't bother opening his eye but she saw the tiny smirk pull at the corner of his mouth. "No, ma'am."

"Can I ask why?"

"Two full grown men arguin' about spendin' the holidays with someone's family," he muttered, turning his head to look at her. "Didn't feel the need to interrupt a pointless argument. Not when it could wait till morning."

"Not when it could wait until you'd already left?"

He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Serve's 'em right. They could have asked if they'd have gotten outta bed instead of bein' lazy."

Mirth bubbled up within her, making it difficult not to laugh outright at his easy-going commentary. But that was Modo's way – always laid back, always calm unless given a reason to be otherwise. He was the gentle giant of the three renegade mice which made it so easy to be around him.

For what seemed like the millionth time she'd received his phone call, Charley felt a rush of gratitude that it had been Modo to step forward and offer to come with her. She'd implied that Vinnie or even Throttle should, given the confusion of her relationships with both of them and her uncertainty with where she stood. That was the right thing to do, wasn't it? Approach the people you had a semi-romantic yet entirely confusing bond with? But neither of them had offered.

She didn't necessarily _need_ the emotional support, though she couldn't deny that it would be nice to have it. There was no particular friction that would make the holiday unbearable. Just…uncomfortable. Like her mother constantly commenting on Charley's single status and her working instead of having a social life. Or her father's off handed remarks on how she hadn't finished college. Or her sister annoyingly flaunting her lavish lifestyle and romantic conquests with men who lined their pockets with gold. Or her aunt and uncle who were so uptight that they made spandex look comfortable.

Her brother would be there to offer some semblance of normalcy, though with his estranged wife recently out of the picture, much of his focus would probably be on his six year old daughter, Katrina.

And there would be Modo.

She glanced at him and smiled. He was completely relaxed, his large frame stretched out and his hands folded loosely over his chest. Something nagged her, distant but insistently – something that left her feeling flushed and extremely aware of herself as a woman. Whatever it was, she brushed it off. "Hope you're not falling asleep on me, big guy. I was hoping you'd take over so I could catch a nap."

"Just let me know when, Charley-girl."

An hour and a half later he was behind the wheel and she was slowly drifting off, lulled by the road passing under them and Modo's deep baritone accompanying the radio.


	3. The Burbs

A/N: And I'll just keep rolling right along. I'm refusing writers block on this. Thank you to Mikell and Melody Winters for being my lovely beta's and writing prompts. Seriously, I don't start a chapter without them throwing some ideas at me to work on. And thank you to Meldewit, miceaholic, MayaPatch, Spades21 and Mamma Lici for your continued support!

**Chapter Three: The Burbs**

Charley's parents lived in an older part of town on a street dominated by old Colonial and Victorian homes with the trees planted so close to the curb that they were nearly on the road, their branches providing constant shade.

Modo emitted a low whistle as they pulled into the driveway of a red brick Colonial perched on a gently sloping hillside. "Nice place."

"Drafty," Charley muttered, but smiled anyway as she cut the engine, then sat back to stare up at the house.

"You tell your folks about us?"

Charley rolled her head to favor him with a sheepish smile. "If by tell you mean let them know that I spent a lot of time in the company of three rather impulsive military men, yes."

Chuckling, Modo shook his head. "Well, this ought to be interesting."

After retrieving both his bag and the two Charley had brought with from the back seat, Modo followed her up the stone walkway, their boots crunching over what snow hadn't been scraped free by a shovel. Modo quickly noticed the cold was less forgiving in Wisconsin, biting through the insufficient layers of the coat he wore and settling deep in his bones. A fire would feel nice right about now. A fire, something warm to drink and a fine female body pressed against his.

Easy there, he told himself, clearing his throat to alleviate the sudden tightness in it and glancing at Charley. She was wrapped in a thick white coat that stopped just above her jeans-clad knees, her hand stuffed deeply in the pockets and a purple and gray scarf wrapped around her neck. He'd never seen her wear much of anything that couldn't stand to get a little grease on it, so to see her like this…it made her seem a little more vulnerable. Not much, but enough to make it even more difficult to get his thoughts to behave themselves.

"You ready?" she asked.

She looked like she wanted to run. Like standing on that stoop was the last thing she wanted to be doing. She didn't talk much about her family so to see the tension riding her shoulders and pulling at her features was confusing.

"Are you?"

She sighed and squared her shoulders. "Nope."

But she knocked anyway as she pushed the door open.

"Mom? Dad? It's Charley," she called as they stepped into the foyer. The first thing Modo noticed was how much like home the place felt - scuffed hardwood floors, afghans thrown over worn couches, a small television sitting on an aged entertainment center, a mantel with a fire burning cheerfully away in the hearth and walls lines with pictures of family.

The place was kept clean but it was well lived in and he liked the feel of it immediately.

"Charlene?!"

A woman, short and slightly plump, came around the corner of an open archway, wiping her hands on the apron she wore. Her hair was the same color as Charley's and piled on top of her head in a neat bun.

"Oh goodness, honey! I wasn't expecting you until later!"

The woman rushed forward, pulling Charley into her arms and hugging her tightly.

"We decided to leave early. I didn't want to run the risk of anyone coming in for a fix last minute and getting stuck driving late."

"Oh, good. You know I don't like you kids being out on the roads after dark." The woman pulled back, a genuine smile fixed on her face that faltered only somewhat when she turned to him. "Oh my," she breathed. "Um, Charlene?"

Charley shot him an apologetic look. "Mom, you remember those friends I told you about? The military guys?"

"Name's Modo, ma'am," he said, easily taking her hand and bending low to place a chivalrous kiss on her knuckles. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Oh my." Charley's mom lifted a hand to fuss with her hair, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink at the unexpected introduction. "Modo, is it? Well, I'm Florence, Charlene's mother. I apologize for being startled. Charlene wasn't very specific when she told us about you and your friends."

With a sigh, Charley fixed a pacifying look on her face. "I'm sorry, mom. I should have been a little less…well, secretive. Modo's from Mars. He crash landed here with his friends Throttle and Vinnie a few years back and they've been doing their part to keep Chicago safe from the the other alien race."

"Oh!" Her mother exclaimed, her smile brightening. "You mean those Plutarkian fellows? Well, isn't that just so sweet of you."

She looped her arm through Modo's and started to drag him enthusiastically towards the kitchen. "Come in, you two. Make yourselves right at home. Your father and I ate already but I can sure throw together a few sandwiches if you'd like. I've got a bit of wild rice soup left over from last night, too. Your father's out doing snow removal so probably won't be back until around supper time."

Modo threw a helpless look back at Charley who just shrugged. He was at the mercy of older woman and it seemed as if he was on his own. "Much obliged, ma'am."

"Goodness, Modo," Florence trilled, "No one's called me ma'am since I was an elementary teacher. Such manners!"

"Well, my mama didn't raise no disrespectful son, ma'am."

"I see that. Go ahead, grab a stool and I'll fix you a plate."

Modo did as she said, taking up a spot at the island that dominated the warm kitchen. A rack of copper plated pans hung over it, high enough to not threaten the head of anyone below it. He looked around as Florence went about throwing together an impromptu lunch. The counter tops were dark and earthy, taken up by older appliances, ceramic containers and utensil holders. It was the kind of kitchen that had towels specific to the season draped through door handles, dirty dishes stacked neatly in the sink and the clean ones stacked just as neatly in a wooden strainer placed over a dish towel. And a half eaten apple pie sitting in the center of the stove. Modo's mouth watered just looking at it.

Charley took a seat beside him as her mother set down two plates, each one holding a large sandwich that had carefully been sliced in half.

"There you go. I'll get that soup heated up too. Did you need anything to drink? Milk, water-."

"The sandwiches are just fine mom. Do you have any pop?" Charley asked, picking up her sandwich and taking a bite.

"Funny you should ask." Florence went to the fridge, pulling it open and taking two cans of root beer from the shelf on the door. "I remember you saying something about your friends liking root beer and ever since then I've found myself taking a liking to it."

Florence settled against the counter, seemingly content to watch them eat and play hostess. Once the sandwiches were gone and the empty plates were filled with two large slices of apple pie, she turned her smile on him.

"So, Modo. Tell me about yourself. You're from…Mars, was it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Interesting. How do you come to be in Chicago?"

Modo polished off the last of his apple pie, turning down her offer for seconds with a simple shake of the head. "The Plutarkian's were makin' to take over so we made a run for it, crash landed in Chicago after they tried to attack our ship. Didn't take us long to find out that Mar's wasn't the only one dealin' with the stink-fish so we stuck around to make sure what happened on Mar's didn't happen here."

Florence settled a hand on her chest. "Oh my. Do you have to fight these other aliens often?"

Modo chuckled. "Not sure if you'd call what we do to Limberger fightin'. He tries, we shut him down and he ends up having to constantly rebuild."

"They keep him under control," Charley added. "If it weren't for them, Limberger probably would have done a lot more damage than he has and the Plutarkian threat would be much more wide spread." Pushing away from the counter, Charley stood. "I'm going to go take our stuff upstairs. Modo, could you help me?"

"Sure thing, Charley-ma'am."

"I'm afraid all I have is your room, dear. Your brother will be here tomorrow morning and lord knows what your sister is planning on doing. But all rooms have pretty much been spoken for."

Charley waved her off, then reached down and took his hand. She was obviously eager to leave the kitchen and although he didn't entirely understand it, he was more than happy to follow her.

"That's fine. Is the hide-a-bed still in my room?" she called back as they gathered their luggage and started up the stairs, the wood creaking under their combined weight.

"Of course, dear. Extra sheets and blankets in the hall closet."

She lead him down a carpeted hallway, stopping at the built in closet beside the bathroom to pull sheets and blankets from the top shelf before continuing on to the last door at the end. Once inside, she closed the door behind them with a sigh and flipped the light switch. A lamp beside a queen sized bed flickered on, bathing the room in its warm glow.

Charley took her bags, setting them beside the bed before going to the couch across from the bed, pulling the cushions off and tossing them aside.

"Your room?" he asked, taking in the surroundings.

Charley paused to do the same, a nostalgic look softening her features. "Yup. This would be mine."

The room had been tucked back in the eves and because of that, the ceiling peaked, sloping dramatically downward and giving the room a cozy feel. What little walls there were had been covered with modest wallpaper, little gold and mauve flowers scattered on the off white background. There wasn't much filling the walls besides a small dresser and a few posters of old bands and bikes. All in all, the room was entirely Charley.

"I'm sorry about my mom. She's-."

"Quite the woman," Modo finished for her. He helped her pull the bed free from the couch and unfold it, tossing her the sheets when she motioned for them.

"What's go you so nervous, Charley-girl?" he asked as she finished pulling them over the mattress.

With a sigh, she turned and sank down to the bed. He took a seat beside her. It was tempting to reach out, to take her hand and coax her to look at him. But he fought the urge and waited instead.

"I haven't been home in a long time, Modo. And when I say a long time, I mean after I graduated high school. My parent are good people and they mean well…I just…I needed space after-."

She trailed off and still he waited, his curiosity piqued.

"Thank you for coming with me," she said after a while, her voice so quiet that he almost missed it. "I don't think I could have done this on my own."

"Hey, don't mention it, Charley." He did take her hand then, the need to show support outweighing the need to touch her simply for the sake of touching her. "Your mama seems like a really nice lady."

She turned to him with a skeptical smile, her gaze holding a leeriness that was very unlike her. "I hope you're still glad you chose to come after you meet the rest of them."


	4. Chaos - Round One

**A/N:** Missed a day! Sorry, weekends get hectic. J But here's the next chapter with a lot of tension and a little fluff. Happy Sunday all! As always, thank you to all of my reviewers and followers and a big thanks to Mikell and Melody Winters for doing an early morning beta! Love you, ladies!

**Chapter Four: Chaos – Round One**

Charley smiled, listening to her mother's constant chatter as she rinsed the dishes they'd use to throw together a meal of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Christmas music played softly from the small radio perched on the countertop beside the coffee maker. Charley had given her mother a look when she'd turned it on, one her mother had responded to with a dismissive, "oh, don't give me that look Charlene. I didn't start listening to it until this week. That's a personal best for me."

"-And your sister has, for once, not been talking about any man in her life. That doesn't mean she won't bring one with her. Wouldn't surprise me if she did. What we hear from her is so…well, it's always hard to tell what she's up to, who she's with, where she's working."

Charley started to say something, looking up in the process and catching sight of her father's old ford pulling up to the garage as she did so. The headlights glared off of the steel garage door and illuminated the darkness briefly before being turned off.

"Oh, that'll be your father." Florence came to stand beside her.

Charley suddenly wanted to make herself scarce. She loved her father dearly, but he was an imposing man. He wasn't overly tall, or even muscular for that matter. He had worked for the city most of his life and all that could really be said for his stature was that despite her mother's efforts to ply him with sweets and fattening meals, he remained fit for the most part, if not slightly overweight.

Her father's ability to intimidate was by look alone. His glare and silence were the tools he'd used to make his children behave themselves. Though he did smile and had a sense of humor, it was dry and not often used. He was a quiet man, allowing Charley's mother to do most of the talking for him which made him all the more unapproachable.

"Why don't you set the table, dear?" Florence suggested, taking a stack of plates from the cupboard and handing them to Charley.

"Don't need to tell me twice," she muttered, taking the plates, grabbing some silverware from the drawer and heading for the adjoining dining room.

Modo sat in the living room, not exactly watching television but doing his part to make it look like he was. There wasn't much else to do, really, besides wait for the chaos to begin. She set the four plates around the table, then went to stand behind him, watching the football game on the screen with no actual interest.

"Dad's home," she said after a while. Reaching for the side table, she picked up the remote and turned the television off.

"Don't look so nervous, Charley-girl," Modo said, standing and stretching.

He wasn't in his usual battle wear, and to see him in a t-shirt and jeans was oddly unsettling. She couldn't deny that there was a certain amount of appeal to seeing him like this. And being in civilian wear would definitely make it easier to present him to her father.

"If you knew my father, you wouldn't be saying that," she muttered, leading the way back into the kitchen.

"-and Charlene brought a friend with her, Mitchell. He's a very nice boy-."

"Boy," Mitchell Davidson said, pausing in the act of untying his boots. "Charlene brought a boy home?"

Charley noted that the years hadn't been altogether unkind to her father as she walked into the kitchen, stalling at the archway and holding up a hand to stop Modo. He was much the same aside from the whitening of his thick hair and the thinning towards the back of his head. He still wore the same thick canvas jacket with his name scrawled across the left breast pocket, used the same green thermos for his coffee that he had when she was a little girl. She remembered watching him fill it from her spot at the kitchen table.

He looked up and Charley forced a smile when his gaze settled on her. "Hi dad."

His weathered face lost the tightness and softened as much as Mitchell Davidson would allow his face to soften. "There's my Charley. Come and give your old man a hug, girl."

She went to her father, feeling the reluctance slip away bit by bit as his arms came around her.

"How's my girl been doing? Business still good?" He moved away, keeping his firm grip on her shoulders as he looked her over.

"Business is great. More than enough to pay the bills and live comfortably."

Disapproval crossed his face briefly. "You still livin' in that apartment over the garage."

Charley sighed. "Yes, dad. And it's a nice apartment. Dad…I want you to meet a friend of mine-."

She turned and watched Modo move hesitantly into the kitchen. Behind her, she heard her father curse under his breath and felt a sudden tension fill the room. When Mitchell Davidson was tense, the whole world could feel it.

"Dad, this is Modo."

She moved aside as Modo approached them. "Mr. Davidson," he said cautiously, holding out a hand.

And the entire universe could probably tell when Modo was tense. The easygoing nature he'd had with her mother was gone. He was exactly what she'd told his parents he was – a military man, at the alert as he cautiously sized up her father.

Mitchell looked down at the offered hand, reluctantly fitting his own in. "Modo, is it?"

"Yes, sir."

"So Charley, people are so hard for you to be around now that you're keeping company with aliens?"

Charley gasped, horrified by her father's callous tone. This was the reason she'd always related to her mother, always turned to that maternal comfort. Because her dad was blunt and when he wanted to make a point, with little to no sympathy for how it might affect the other person. She loved her dad, but he could be a real pain most times. "Dad!"

"Mitchell, really," her mother scolded.

"Are you part of that group that's trying to take over? Because if you are-."

"You honestly think I'd be friends with _those_ guys?!" Charley could feel the anger quickly replacing the mortification. "Dad, please-."

Modo held up a hand, silencing her, his hard gaze never leaving her father. "No, Charley-ma'am. That's alright. Sir, I'm part of the race trying to keep those _aliens_ from takin' over your planet."

"That so?" Mitchell took his hand back, only slightly mollified by Modo's explanation. "Seems to me you're not doing so great if they're still here."

"Mitchell, that's enough," her mother snapped, coming to Modo's side. "Forgive my husband, Modo. He seems to lack the wonderful manners you've graced us with." She angled a glare at her husband. "You might want to remind him."

A measure of apprehension left Modo as he turned his gaze on Florence. "Ma'am, I can hardly blame him. It's not every day a man has a seven foot tall Martian mouse accompanying his daughter home. I think I'd have some questions too, if I was in his place."

The sound of the front door bursting open interrupted the moment and Charley whirled, feeling her heart sink. Standing in the doorway was a slim whirlwind in fashionable winter boots, cream leggings and a deep purple sweatshirt.

"Mom, dad! Guess who's home?"

"Because this moment couldn't get any worse," Charley muttered.

The woman dropped the coat she was carrying over the suitcase by her feet and removed her stocking cap, revealing a dark pixie cut that framed her heart shaped face. Eyes the same color as hers regarded her, wide and full of shock. "Oh…my god. Charley? Is that you?!"

Charley forced another smile, thinking she was getting quite good at it, and braced for impact as her little sister Cassandra rushed across the room and threw her arms around Charley's neck, effectively cutting off her air supply.

"Yes," she managed to choke out, patting the younger woman's back awkwardly. "Yes, Cassie, it's me. Can I breathe please?"

"Oh!" Cassie backed up. "Sorry about that. I haven't seen you in forever! Look at you!" Her gaze moved past Charley, widening even further. "And look at _him._ Who _is_ that?_"_

She wanted the moment to be over, to be upstairs in bed sleeping off the mental hangover this would no doubt leave her with. Of course, it was nowhere near over. It was like a car wreck moving in slow motion and there was no escape.

"Cassandra!" Her mother swept into the room, pulling Cassie into her arms much the same way she had with Charley earlier that day. "We were just getting ready to eat. There should be enough but why didn't you call?"

"I was going to but you know, I got off work early and instead of going home, just started heading this way." Cassie's attention was immediately on Modo again. "I'm not seeing things, right? There is an incredibly tall, dark and quite handsome…_mouse-man_ standing in your house?"

"Martian, ma'am," Modo corrected her kindly.

She gasped dramatically, her hand going to her chest and her fingers toying at the low neck of the sweater. No doubt to draw his attention – one of her many ploys if Charley remembered correctly. "Are you one of those biker guys from Chicago that I've heard about on the news?"

"Um-." Modo rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly uncomfortable. He, Vinnie and Throttle tried to keep a low profile but with the constant destruction of Limberger Tower and the crash landing in the middle of a baseball game, it hadn't been easy and there had been traces of them that would pop up in the news stream every now and then.

"You're so much more impressive up close." Cassie walked up to him fearlessly, resting a hand on his arm and arching a brow appreciatively. "Much more impressive."

Her attention was diverted momentarily as she caught sight of their father standing behind Modo, a stern look of disapproval still on his face.

"Daddy!" Cassie cried, going around Modo, throwing her arms around her father's neck and placing a loud kiss on his cheek.

"Hello, Cas." He returned the hug, but kept a leery eye on Modo.

Frustrated and annoyed at the sudden turn, Charley sighed. _Well, at least that's two down. Only dad's sister and her uptight husband to go. _

"Okay, everyone sit. Supper's getting cold," Florence instructed, herding them all like cattle into the dining room. They took their seats – her father at the head leaving the chair to the right of him open for Florence. Cassie took up the one on the left and Charlie sat across from him, leaving the seat between herself and her sister for Modo.

Florence bustled around, filling the table with supper and making sure everyone had what they needed before settling into her chair, pulling the cloth napkin from beneath her plate and laying it over her lap.

It took only a minute for Cassie to start in on Modo after each of their plates were filled. "So," she drawled, propping her elbow on the table between them and leaning toward him. "You're from Mars, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am," he answered after swallowing the mouth full of food she'd caught him with.

"How did you end up in Chicago and with _Charley?"_

The way Cassie said her name made Charley grind her teeth together in annoyance. How was it even possible to imply in one word how unbelievable it was that an attractive Martian was friends with her older sister?

"Well, we crash landed here after our ship was attacked, then happened to be drivin' by The Last Chance when Charley-girl was being bothered by the lackey of our rival, Limburger. She was handlin' him pretty good, but we came in to make sure that he stopped. Since then, we've been workin' on keepin' her and the city of Chicago safe while she's been workin' on keepin' our bikes up and running. You're daughters got some smarts on her," he finished, angling a tentative smile at her father.

Though it was faint, Charley caught the flash of approval in her father's eyes. It wasn't complete approval, but it was a start.

The conversation continued, mostly kept running by Cassie. Charley swore she'd never heard Modo talk more than he was right now. But Cassie kept firing questions at him, hanging on his every word. And as grudgingly grateful as she'd been when Cassie started, as supper wore on she started to become painfully aware of just how badly her sister's attention towards Modo sat with her. It was all she could do not to excuse herself from the table and turn in early. But she made it through the meal, through the round of "good nights" and even had the slight pleasure of watching Modo and her father exchange somewhat forced but pleasant words before she slipped upstairs with him to the room they would be sharing.

Once the door was shut, Modo caught her hand and turned her to him, pulling her into his strong arms and holding her.

"Breathe, Charley-girl," he instructed softly.

She did so, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it slowly as she allowed her muscles to relax. She was soon sagging against him, breathing in his unique scent. Had he always smelled so good?

"I'm sorry about my dad," she muttered, then added, "and my sister."

Modo chuckled, the deep sound vibrating against her ear where it rested on his chest. "Family's family," he said. "Thinkin' about how my gray furred mama would treat any woman kept me from datin'. She probably wouldn't have been much better than your old man."

Regretfully moving away from him, Charley drug her hands through her hair. "I'm going to take a quick shower before bed."

He nodded, stepping aside to allow her to leave. With a smile, she slipped out into the hallway, grateful that she didn't run into a single family member as she made her way to the bathroom. She indulged in more than a quick shower, letting the steaming hot water work its way over her tense muscles until she truly felt relaxed. She took her time washing her hair and even went as far as to shave her legs before turning off the tap, stepping out of the shower and changing into a large sleep shirt and simple pair of shorts.

Back in her room, the lights were off and she could easily make out Modo's large form lying on the hide-a-bed. She smiled and stood for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of his large chest. Regardless of how the night had gone, he'd been amazing – patient with her father, placating with her sister – he'd been the perfect gentleman.

She moved carefully around his bed and, as quietly as she could, slipped into hers, pulling the covers up around her and snuggling into the pillows. "Night, big guy," she whispered before allowing herself to succumb to sleep.


	5. Truce and Truth

**A/N:** These two are making it too easy to write and meet my personal goal of one chapter a day. You'd think I had this done already but NOPE! Sure don't! Lol. On with the show! Mikell, you rock my socks lady! Thank you for being my beta on this one and for your words of encouragement!

**Chapter Five: Truce and Truth**

One unfortunate side-effect of being in the military since he was young enough to tackle the responsibility was how his internal alarm clock had set itself to go off early and sleeping in became nothing more than a figment of his imagination. There were days it didn't bother Modo in the slightest. But there were also those days where the warmth was too tempting, the sleep too deep and waking up was something he tried to resist and usually failed at doing. This morning was one of those mornings.

After a good half an hour of lying with his eyes shut and mentally chasing down the sandman, he rolled onto his back, opening his eyes to stare up at the ceiling. The sun had barely risen above the horizon. The room was still considerably dark, shadows slowly starting to ebb away.

He could hear Charley's deep, easy breathing and turned his head to look at her. He couldn't help smiling, rubbing absentmindedly at his chest when he felt the familiar tightening she always seemed to bring on. She looked so peaceful, curled up on her side with one arm lying over the dark comforter.

_Bet if I woke up with her snuggled up next to me, I'd have no problem goin' back to sleep,_ he thought with a wistful sigh.

Sitting up, he yawned and pushed the blankets back. _Ain't much of a point in staying in bed once you're up. Especially when there's no one sharin' that bed with you,_ he thought with one last longing glance at Charley. As quietly as he could, determined not to wake her, he changed out of the sweatpants he'd worn to bed and into a pair of jeans and the thin sweatshirt that Charley had given him last year for Christmas that sported the logo of his favorite radio station.

He slipped out of the room and started downstairs, though he wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do once he got there. He figured he was the only one up, then silently hoped that Charley's sister wasn't an early riser. She was nice and all…but the gentleman in him didn't entirely appreciate her straightforward manner.

Rounding the corner to the kitchen he came to a slow stop when he saw Charley's father at the island, one hand curled loosely around a coffee cup, the other holding the morning newspaper.

Modo moved to take a step backwards, thinking that lying in bed and doing nothing would be a better option than facing this awkwardness when Mitchell looked up. He straightened slightly in his seat and shifted.

"Morning, sir," Modo murmured politely.

"Hm…yes. Mornin'." Mitchell cleared his throat, setting the newspaper aside. "You drink coffee?"

"Not as often as I used to."

"Well…ahh, would you like a cup?"

"Wouldn't mind one, sir. Thank you."

He moved carefully to the island, taking the vacant stool on the opposite side of Charley's father. When Mitchell set a mug of coffee down in front of him, he murmured his thanks and lifted it, taking a sip and relishing the bite. One thing was for sure about Mitchell Davidson. He liked his coffee strong.

Mitchell settled back in the seat across from him, taking up his newspaper once again. The silence that stretched on between them was not entirely uncomfortable. There was a peace to it that hadn't been there last night. It made Modo feel much less anxious. He relaxed only marginally, still wary of the older man.

"Listen son." Mitchell set his paper aside, then rubbed a thick hand over his chin in a way that Modo had seen Stoker do a time or two. It was usually when he was thinking about something, mulling it over and trying to come to grips with the reality of a situation. "My wife pointed out that I was a bit out of line last night. And for that, I apologize. It's been years since we've seen Charley and it was a bit…startling to see her in the company of an alien."

Modo resisted the urge to grimace. There was something about the word _alien_ that had never really sat well with him. Martian seemed a little less offensive. Though at times it was hard to see himself as either. "No need to apologize, sir."

"No, I think there is." His demeanor suddenly shifted, taking Modo entirely off guard. He relaxed in his seat and became contemplative, regarding him though narrowed eyes. "You know, I was a military man myself once. Second Lieutenant, Air Force. Served in Afghanistan. War isn't an easy thing. Point I'm trying to make here is…I was out of line to suggest you and your friends aren't doing a decent job of defending our planet. And for what you have done, I appreciate that. And thank you…for watching out for Charlene."

"It's no problem at all, sir." Modo smiled, thinking about how many times Charley had patched him and his bros up and how many times she'd fixed their bikes with minimal complaining. "Fact is, sir…I think she does more watching out for us than we do for her."

Mitchell nodded slowly, his brows lowering. "It's good to hear that she has friends," he allowed after a while. "Charlene didn't have many when she left here. Her closest friend was Andrew and…well…"

"Good morning," a voice said, effectively cutting Mitchell off.

Modo looked up, swallowing hard as his gaze settled on Charley. She stood in the archway wearing a long cream sweater and jeans that flared slightly over her bare feet. Her hair was pulled back in a loose pony tail that hung in a mess of loose curls over her shoulder. Had the smile on her face not been so tight, she would have been a vision. But that smile…it was unsettling.

"Mornin' Charley-ma'am," he greeted.

She moved across the kitchen, stopping to place a hand on her father's shoulder and a kiss on his cheek before moving to the cupboard to retrieve a mug.

"Good morning, Charlene. Sleep well?"

"Well enough," she replied using the same clipped tone she used when her irritation with Vinnie was at its peak. "Do you work today?"

"Until noon. Then I'm off until Monday. Should probably get going, actually." Mitchell pushed away from the counter. Finishing his coffee, he set the empty mug in the sink and went to the back entryway, retrieving his coat from the hook behind the door and slipping it on. "Tell your mother I'll be home for dinner."

When the door shut behind him, Charley sighed and sank back against the counter. "Do I even want to know what you two were talking about?"

Modo lifted his cup of coffee to hide his grin. "Your old man was just apologizing for last night."

"Oh he was, was he?" She turned, resting an elbow on the counter top and giving Modo a skeptical look.

"Yes, ma'am." He hesitated on what he was about to say next, not entirely sure he wanted to open _that_ can of worms. But things had been said that didn't quite add up. First with the statement that made Charley sound like a social outcast, and then the one Charley had interrupted. "Charley-ma'am…who's Andrew, if you don't mind me asking?"

She went from awake and alert to exhausted in the span of one second. Her shoulders slumped, the light in those green eyes he could stare at all day went out. He wanted to take it back. To pretend he'd never asked the question. But it was too late for that.

"I think…you and I need to go for a walk," she finally said. "Let me get some socks on and we'll go."

And she was gone, leaving him to the silence of the kitchen. He didn't want to go for a walk. Whatever secrets she was hiding, he didn't want to hear them. Not if they could make her look like that. But this was loving someone, wasn't it? To know their demons? To know every single secret whether you wanted to or not?

Sighing, Modo stood and went to the sink, placing his mug beside the one Mitchell had left behind before leaving the kitchen to go in search of his coat and boots.

An hour later he was walking beside Charley, down a path that lead through a thickly wooded area. Clouds had moved in, leaving the sky a dreary overcast gray, and snow had started falling in large flakes, adding to the several inches. No words had been exchanged between them since they left the house. Aside from their boots crunching over the snow, there were no others sounds. It was that peaceful silence that existed only in the winter when the snow was thick and heavy.

The woods started to thin, opening up to reveal the haunting sight of Lake Superior, stretching with silent desolation over the landscape. Ice had attempted to contain the dark blue waters, but had only made it a few feet out before giving up its pointless endeavor. They stopped a few yards away. It was then that Charley spoke, her voice as quiet as the waters.

"Andrew was my first boyfriend. Aside from Jack, my only boyfriend. I was fifteen…almost sixteen…when he passed away."

Modo swallowed hard. This hadn't been what he was expecting. In all fairness, he hadn't gone into this conversation with any real expectations. But _this_…nothing could have prepared him for this. For a moment he wondered if he should say something or if she even wanted him to say something. But this seemed like one of those moments – those moments women had where all they wanted was to talk to someone who would listen.

She reached for his hand, wrapping her smaller one around it as she started to make her way over the unsteady and rocky terrain of the shoreline. He chose to walk the sand beside the rocks, knowing that his ability to catch her if she lost her balance would be much better if he had steady ground beneath him.

"We were friends for such a long time that dating just seemed…natural. We'd been going out for about three months when he got really sick. They had to hospitalize him. And when he was released, he left with a diagnosis – cancer. Hodgkin's Lymphoma. They hadn't caught it early so his chances weren't good. And he knew it. He went through every treatment his mom put him through in her desperation to reverse it. But he knew he wasn't going to live. I could tell the day he told me. We talked a lot before he died. He wanted me to move on, to not sulk over him dying. And those are his words, not mine." She smiled a little as she recalled that time from her past, lowering her voice in an obvious attempt to imitate Andrew. "Don't you go cryin' your ass off and wasting your life because I'm gone. We're too young for that crap."

Modo smiled reluctantly, tightening his grip on Charley's hand and steadying her when she momentarily lost her balance.

"He really had a good head on him. He wasn't afraid. He accepted his fate and even when he said goodbye to me, he did it with a smile. He was an amazing guy. And I would have loved to move on. I wanted to do exactly what he told me to do and live. But no one would let me." Her expression clouded over, the smile gone and her eyes turbulent. "I stopped existing as Charlene Davidson after Andrew passed away. It's like…everyone saw me as the girl who buried her boyfriend. There was _so_ much pity. I wasn't a popular kid. Not by a long shot. But suddenly they were falling all over me in their attempts to help me 'overcome my sorrow.' And when I'd tell them I was okay, that I was going to be fine…I'd get the same thing over and over again. Poor Charlene. She's in shock. She left her heart with him. I couldn't even date because every guy here saw me as Andrew's girlfriend. It didn't matter that I was my own person. It didn't matter that I wanted to move on. Even my own parents treated me like I was glass, always afraid of breaking me. They thought I wouldn't date because of him. They thought I had no social life because I couldn't get over his loss and no matter how many times I tried to talk to them about it…it's like they didn't hear me."

She stopped, looking out over the expanse of the lake, remembering what it had been like to be forced into constant mourning.

"When I graduated, I couldn't get out of here fast enough. I just wanted to get away from every single one of them. And every time I started to feel guilty all I could remember was Andrew telling me not to cry my ass off, to move on because I was too young not to."

A lone tear made its way down her cheek and Modo couldn't stop staring at it. He'd never seen his Charley-girl cry before. It was unnerving and he was suddenly angry with the entire town. What they'd done to her was completely unfair, cutting a woman off from the life she deserved to have, not giving her the chance to move on that she'd been told her to take.

"Chicago was as far as I made it. I started up the garage the second I saw it, putting every bit of college money and life savings into renovating that place. I was good in shop – figured if there was a way I could make a name for myself or at least make decent career choice, it would be in automotive repair. My parents never really forgave me for not going to college. Mom won't say anything but with at least every other phone call I make home, dad brings up my decision not to go. Maybe someday I will, but when I got out of there…all I wanted to do was live."

"They should have let you," Modo said quietly. She looked down at him and he gave her hand a little tug, pulling her from the rocks and sliding a comforting arm around her shoulders. She settled into him almost naturally, her hand coming to rest on his chest as she pressed her face against his shoulder.

"I'm living now." She tilted her head back to smile up at him and he swallowed hard. Those lips begged to be kissed, full and tempting. Her eyes were sparking again, full of the life that he loved so much. "With you guys, I'd say I'm almost making up for lost time."

He lifted a hand, brushing her hair away from her eyes and tucking it gently behind her ear. He watched confusion flit over her features, creasing her brow the tiniest bit. "Not gonna spend too much time feeling guilty about all those near-death experiences then," he muttered, trying to lighten to mood, to force back those lust filled thoughts and give himself, give them _both,_ room to breathe.

She chuckled softly then moved away from him, taking his hand and turning back the way they'd come. "Good. I wouldn't want you to, big guy."


	6. Counting

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay in an update guys. I had wanted to get this finished by Thanksgiving but it looks like that's not going to happen. Doesn't mean I'll be slowing down to a stop at all. At least I hope not. I doubt I'll be able to get to a computer tomorrow with my own family chaos but have a nice long weekend to get some quality writing done. And forgive the typos/mistakes. My beta's are enjoying their holiday festivities as well so they're MIA for the time being. J Happy Thanksgiving to you all!

**Chapter Six: Counting**

Charley was still holding Modo's hand. It was something she couldn't bring herself to stop doing. And he hadn't made a move to let go so she honestly didn't feel the need to. After everything she'd just dumped on him, after how graciously he'd taken it, she felt she had a right to hang onto that stability for dear life. That was Modo– the big, stable, rock in her life that she could always depend on. She glanced up at him through her lashes, a difficult feat to achieve given how much taller than her he was.

The hand she wasn't holding was shoved in the pocket of the black coat he wore that stretched over his huge shoulders. His breath puffed out in small clouds and his gaze was reflective. He was so calm, so steady.

_And handsome. Go on, admit it. _

Charley sucked in a startled breath at the sudden, wayward thought.

"Everything okay?" Modo asked, his voice a quiet rumble in the stillness of the late morning.

She nodded, smiling a little too brightly. "Yeah, everything's fine."

He didn't look like he believed her. Not in the slightest. But he didn't question her either which was good. She couldn't even answer for herself why she'd thought of such a thing. But…she also couldn't deny the truth behind the words. Modo _was_ handsome. All of the Biker Mice were in some way. But Modo…he had that full, rare package women often times could only dream of. He was so kind and considerate, his manners were impeccable, his confidence limitless. His deep laugh was one of the most infectious things Charley had ever heard and often times she found herself smiling in response to it even if she had no idea what he was laughing about. She could listen to his voice forever, to the soothing lull of his singing when he wasn't trying too hard and singing off key.

"Looks like your folks have more company."

His words pulled her from her confusing thoughts and she looked up. Pulled in beside her sisters tiny coup was a brown jeep that she easily recognized as her brothers. "That's Nate," she said with a smile, releasing his hand and jogging for the house. She took the porch steps two at a time and pushed the door open.

"Auntie Charley!"

Charley caught the tiny female version of her brother in mid-air, hugging her niece tightly and laughing. "Oh, Kati, look at you!" Charley set the young girl down and framed her face with her hands. The girl smiled back widely revealing a missing tooth. Her brown eyes shone with excitement, thick brown bangs hanging in them that Charley swept away with the tips of her fingers. "You've grown up so much."

"I started the first grade this year, Aunt Charley!" the girl said excitedly. "I've got Ms. Lowman and Bridgette and Cameron are in my class!"

"That's…great kiddo!" Charley returned with just as much enthusiasm, not having the slightest clue who Bridgette or Cameron were.

"They're her besties," a male voice said from behind her.

Charley whirled, laughing as her brother pulled her into an affectionate hug, lifting her off her feet. "Hey there, Charley."

"Nate," she tightened her hold on him. Having him there meant almost as much as having Modo there. "Oh, I've missed you."

"Missed you too, sis." He set her down and she got a good look at him. Same brown hair and brown eyes, same careless cut that left his hair somewhere between kept and shaggy. He was only an inch or two taller than her and looked more like their mother than their father. But the face…oh that face. There was a sadness there that seemed etched into his handsome features. She knew Kimberly leaving had been difficult for him, especially when it came as such a surprise. He looked like a man who had not just had his heart broken, but ripped out of his chest and handed to him.

"You look like you're holding up okay," she said softly.

He carelessly shrugged off her words. "About as good as any guy in my situation, I guess. I just-." He stopped talking all together, his eyes going impossibly wide and his mouth slack.

_Well, that's one way to make that heartbroken look go away,_ Charley thought, turning to Modo as he closed the front door behind him.

"Charley…is that…I'm not-," Nate stuttered. He reached for Katrina and pulled her behind him protectively.

"Relax Nate," Charley scolded. "This is my friend, Modo. Modo, this is my brother, Nate."

"Pleasure to meet you, Nate," Modo said, holding out a hand which Nate automatically took, more than likely out of habit. Had he thought about it for a minute, he may have hesitated. "Charley's told us a lot about you."

"Wish I could say the same," Nate mused. "Are you a-."

"One of the Biker Mice from Mars," Modo said as if he were claiming his status as some member of an elite band. Charley bit back a laugh, enjoying the exchange.

"You're a biker?" Katrina said, peering around her father and up at Modo in awe. "Like Auntie Charley?"

Releasing Nate's hand, Modo hunkered down so that he was eye level with Katrina, smiling kindly. "Sure am, little lady. Even got my own bike."

"You do?" Katrina stepped out from behind Nate, approaching Modo fearlessly.

"Yes, ma'am. Named her 'Lil Hoss. She couldn't make the trip though. Snow's not good for her."

Katrina nodded in agreement. Then, ever so cautiously, she reached out, her little fingers gently touching the edge of Modo's ear. "You're from Mars?"

Modo nodded. His ease with Katrina was heartwarming and Charley nearly melted watching him interact with her. What gentle nature he effortlessly displayed on a daily basis was multiplied around children.

"This guy's serious?" Nate whispered to her. His eyes never left his daughter and Charley was sure that it was taking a great deal of restraint to keep from reaching for her and pulling her back.

"Relax, Nate. Modo's one of the good guys."

"If you say so."

"I do."

Katrina continued her innocent exploration, her little fingers moving to Modo's arm. "Why do you have a robot arm?"

Modo chuckled softly. "Long story, sweetheart. Probably one best left untold for someone your age."

"Oh." She blinked up at him. "Does it hurt?"

"Not at all."

The answer seemed to suit Katrina just fine. She nodded once, took a step back and then asked a question that shifted the tension back to Charley. "Are you Auntie Charley's boyfriend?"

"Kati!" Charley and Nate exclaimed in unison.

Charley could feel her cheeks burning. She could feel Modo's amused gaze on her as well and fought to ignore it. "Modo is a very good friend of mine," she explained carefully. It was about the only answer she could give and even though it felt awkward to say and didn't sit entirely well with the new emotions being stirred up within her, it was the safest.

Katrina seemed less accepting of that answer. A small frown marred her brow but she shrugged anyway.

And then the second round of chaos started. Her mother and sister came down the stairs and Charley stepped back, giving them both room to gush over Nate and Katrina as she moved close to Modo. That was almost the last of them. There was only her aunt and uncle to go and they had the rest of today and a good half a day before that happened. Twenty five hours and fourty-five minutes. But who was counting?


	7. My Brother's Blessing

**A/N:** Hey guys! Sorry I got behind on this! It wasn't my intention at all. The holiday's got crazy and I had to take a break to catch up with them. That and my mom recorded movies I actually really wanted to watch this time like Warm Bodies. And Beautiful Creatures – though I'll tell you now, with no spoilers involved, that after reading the book I was extremely disappointed in the movie. Anyway, on with the show! I've got the next chapter half done and in the works too so that should hopefully be up tonight after I get the kiddo's in bed and get a chance to sit down with it. Thanks for all of the reviews guys!

**My Brother's Blessing**

"What is Mars like?"

Modo shifted slightly, getting more comfortable with his position on the couch. Katrina was pressed trustingly against his side, curled up under a blanket that he'd graciously declined being under himself. The house itself was just shy of stifling for a mouse with a coat of fur already keeping him warm and the blanket would have made sitting beside her and watching a movie unbearable.

She'd insisted that he watch the movie with her, pulling him eagerly towards the couch while her dad grudgingly allowed "one movie" before bed. Cassie had decided to join them, making herself perfectly comfortable on the opposite side of the couch and Modo was relieved to have Katrina between them. Had it been Charley, it would have been a different story. But she'd decided to stay at the dining room table with Nate. They were talking quietly and he could, in large part thanks to his ears, hear bits and pieces of what they were saying. He tried to keep his focus on the movie but the pull of Charley's voice was always a temptation he couldn't resist. Especially when it was low like it was now, sliding over him like warm honey.

Katrina's question was a welcome one, allowing him to easily shift his focus since the movie was failing to do much to hold his attention.

"What's Mars like?" he repeated softly. "Well, right now it's not much. Not compared to what it used to be."

Katrina wiggled a bit and looked up at him. "What did it used to be like?"

"Amazing," he said with no hesitation. "It wasn't much different from Earth, really. Except the flowers were brighter and no matter where you were, the water was always clear. Used to have this lake back behind Mama's that me and my bro's would go swimmin' in when we were little, all surrounded by these huge trees with branches that hung near the water."

_But then the stink-fish came and all of that just…went away, _he thought, clearing his throat. It suddenly felt tight, too clogged with emotion to go on.

"Hey kiddo, its bed time."

Modo looked up, smiling gratefully at Charley. Sometimes he felt like she kept a closer eye on him than he kept on her with her uncanny timing.

"Aw, Aunt Charley, the movie's not over yet!" Katrina protested, snuggling closer to Modo and making the gray furred mouse smile.

"You're not even watching it or you'd know that the credits are rolling right now," Charley said, calling her bluff. "Come on. To bed. We've got a busy day tomorrow."

With plenty of grumbled protests, Katrina pushed the blankets back and stood. She caught him off guard, leaning over to give him a quick hug and he stiffened, not entirely gaining his bearings before she'd pulled back and rounded the couch to join Charley.

"Night, Modo," Katrina sang.

"Night kiddo."

Their footfalls on the steps had just started to fade when Cassie set aside the magazine she'd been looking over and shifted closer to him. Much closer. Any closer and she would have been in his lap. Modo swallowed hard and tried to move back, silently cursing the couch arm keeping him in place.

"Hey there, handsome," she nearly purred, tiptoeing her fingers up his arm. "You're _amazing_ with kids. Do you have any?"

"I…what? No-."

"Could have fooled me. You're a natural." Something flashed in her eyes, eyes the color of Charley's but not quite. They lacked the maturity, the warmth. "So, is there someone back on Mars?"

_There's someone on Earth_, he thought, but couldn't get his voice to work past the nerves to inform her of that. Instead, he swallowed again and rubbed the back of his neck, looking for an easy escape.

"Cass, ease up on the guy," Nate muttered, coming to stand beside the couch. He gave Modo a sympathetic look. "Wanna join me for a drink?"

"That'd be nice. Thanks."

He couldn't get off the couch fast enough, pretending to ignore Cassie's pout and the dirty look she shot her brother as Modo followed him into the kitchen. The light over the sink had been left on, chasing away the darkness and bathing the room in a subtle glow that made it feel more welcoming, like a hole in the wall bar at the end of an incredibly long day where the bartender knew what you wanted and had it ready when you sat down.

"She's about as subtle as a freight train," Nate muttered, moving to a cupboard on the far side of the kitchen and pulling a bottle of amber liquid from the top shelf. "Whiskey okay?"

Modo nodded and pulled up a stool at the island. "Whiskey's fine. Thanks."

Nate started to fill two small tumblers, grinning up at Modo as he did so. "You have this stuff on Mars?"

"Stronger stuff." Modo accepted the drink and tipped it back, relishing the burn against his throat. He didn't drink often but when he did, he tended to savor the feel rather than the taste. Maybe it was a war thing – you learned to appreciate being able to feel above any other sense. Because feeling meant you were alive.

"Wow. So you're really…what, an alien?"

There was that word again. This time, however, he felt fine correcting Nate. "Actually, we prefer Martian. Alien sounds…" What did it sound like?

"Sci-Fi?" Nate offered, then laughed at Modo's confused look. "Science fiction. Like Men in Black or something. Martian then. When did you guys crash here?"

Modo settled back, feeling significantly comfortable. Nate had that same presence Charley did, the one that you couldn't help but feel relaxed around. "Little over two years ago. Been holdin' up in a revamped score board over Quiggley Field."

Nate leaned on the counter, taking a slow sip of his drink. "Ah, Quiggley Field. Great place. Charley took me and Kati to a game last time we were there. We don't get to Chicago much."

"Why's that?"

"Kimberly. She didn't…really care for Chicago."

"Kimberly's your wife?"

"Was. Was my wife." He leaned over the countertop to refill Modo's glass, then his own before setting the bottle aside. "She left us last year."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Eh, it's okay. Sometimes I don't blame her. I was unemployed at the time – in-between jobs so she was supporting all of us, working long hours, paying for drop in daycare when I was out looking for a job. And the whole parenting thing…well, she tried pretty damn hard but you could tell she just wasn't cut out for it."

"That ain't right," Modo muttered. None of his kind, no matter how cut out they were for parenting, would abandon their families. There took a definite lack of morals to do something so cowardly and if there was one thing he and his kind weren't, it was cowards. "I'm sorry for sayin' it but you don't just up and leave your family."

Nate released a humorless bark of laughter and tossed back the remainder of his drink. "Yeah, I would have loved to explain that to her but I just woke up one morning and she wasn't there. Her clothes weren't there, her purse wasn't there, her car wasn't there…she was just gone. Me and Kati…we're working our way through it. So, how long have you loved my sister?"

Modo wasn't entirely sure what stunned him into silence more, how quickly Nate had switched the subject or the ease with which he'd done so. He sat there staring at the other man for a handful of seconds before his brain caught up and his mouth stopped working to form words that wouldn't come.

"Take your time." Nate grinned, clearly amused. "Sorry if I took you off guard but you're about as obvious as they get. You've been watching her like she's a piece of cheese-."

"I don't like cheese," Modo said automatically.

"Well…regardless, you haven't taken your eyes off of her all night unless Kati snagged your attention. I'm going to guess from day one?"

With a sigh, Modo slid his glass across the counter for a refill. "About that, yeah. That obvious?"

"Yeah, that obvious." Nate finished refilling Modo's glass, filled his halfway and then returned the bottle of whiskey to the cupboard. "I'm surprised Cass is even trying but then again, she gets tunnel vision when she sees something she wants. I'll reign her in for ya."

Modo saluted him with his glass. "Appreciate it."

"Besides," Nate continued, his voice much softer. "You'd be good for Charley. Lord knows she didn't get much of a chance to date here. She needs to learn what it means to actually be with someone. Girl needs some romance in her life." Nate studied him shrewdly for a moment, looking so much like his father that it stirred a little of the dormant unease. "Can you give her that?"

Modo mulled that over. Knowing what he knew now, could he give Charley everything she'd missed out on – the first times, the romance, the affection, every good and bad moment that made up a solid relationship? Could he give it to her when he hadn't even experienced it himself?

He looked up at Nate and slowly nodded. "I think I could. I'd at least give it a damn good try."

"Good, that's what I like to hear."


	8. Chaos: Round Three

**A/N**: I keep thinking I did three updates in a row. Pretty sure I'm dreaming that. Maybe because I have half of the next chapter written already. Or because I lack sufficient sleep. Who know? Anyway, Thanks Mikell for being my awesome beta and thank you to all of you who reviewed! You guys are great and I appreciate the feedback! Now, who's ready to meet Charley's aunt?

**Chaos: Round Three**

The house was quiet. So quiet that Charley could easily make out the sound of coffee percolating and the off key humming of her mother from the doorway of her bedroom. Wrapping her thin robe around herself and yawning, she started shuffling towards the steps, drawn by the aromatic scent of caffeine.

Her mother was the only one up. She was checking the turkey as Charley rounded the corner.

"Morning, mom," Charley said as she brushed past the older woman in search of a coffee cup.

"Morning, Charlene. Your cups in the strainer of that's what you're looking for."

Humming a response, Charley leaned over and snagged her coffee cup from the confines of the sink, pressing a kiss to her mother's cheek in the process.

Florence flushed slightly. "Now, what was that for?" she asked, waving her off.

"For being a fussy, overbearing mother who completely understands when I bring a Martian mouse home for Thanksgiving."

She turned her back to her mother to fill her cup, missing the shrewd look Florence gave her in the process. "Since we're on the subject…why don't you tell me a little about Modo?"

Charley slid into one of the chairs at the island. She contemplated the words for a moment before shrugging. "I'm not…really sure what you're looking for here, mom. He filled you all in pretty good last night."

"Oh sure, he filled us in…about him. Now you fill me in about the both of you."

Charley rolled her eyes. "Oh please, mom. It's nothing like that."

"I'm not so sure, Charlene. He keeps a very close eye on you. Have you noticed that?"

Charley kept her mouth clamped shut. Mostly because she didn't want to answer the question…but also because she hadn't noticed. Modo, keeping an eye on her? If he did it was probably only in the interest of keeping her safe. Her boys were extremely over protective and out of the three of them, Modo was the worst.

"Mom, really. It's just Modo's way. He was raised to be extremely respectful and protective of women."

Her mother hummed softly as she sank down into the opposite chair to join her. "Your father is an extremely protective man, Charlene. And I can tell you right now…although that boy may want to keep you safe, that look means much more."

Charley could feel heat creep up her neck and into her cheeks. She looked down and sipped her coffee. Her mother's words had caused an entirely unexpected reaction. Her view on Modo suddenly shifted. It went from seeing him as a friend and protector to seeing him as a man. Not that she hadn't before. But this…this was different.

"Listen to me, Charlene. I know this is hard. You've managed to avoid serious relationships for years now. You've managed to ignore every interested advance a man has made on you. Well, except that…what was his name?"

"Jack McCyber," Charley muttered absentmindedly.

"Yes, him. Not sure what he was all about…but anyway-." Her mother paused to sigh and reached across the counter-top, taking Charley's hand. "Charlene…so many years have gone by since Andrew passed. And really…you owe him more than your solitude."

Charley frowned. A lump of emotion welled unexpectedly in her throat as a past she'd thought was forgotten attempted to make itself known. "Mom, Andrew isn't why-."

"Of course he is, honey. You loved him."

"Yes, but that's not-."

A floor board creaked – the third from the bottom if Charley remembered correctly - and the rest of what she was going to say died away into nothingness as Modo walked into the kitchen. It was rare to see the Mice in anything besides jeans, boots and battle gear. To see Modo in gray sweatpants and a tight black t-shirt was not only unnatural, but it did things to Charley's insides that made her squirm slightly.

"Good morning, Modo," Florence greeted pleasantly, pushing her stool back and standing. "Why don't you have a seat dear, and I'll get you some coffee?"

"Appreciate it, ma'am," he replied with a nod, taking the vacated spot across from Charley.

Charley couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Modo drink a cup of coffee. Rootbeer, yes. The occasional glass or bottle of water, certainly. She'd even seen him kick back with a beer once or twice. But coffee?

Florence set a steaming mug down in front of him and Charley watched as he lifted it and took a cautious sip. The only word she could think to describe his reaction was…bliss. It was subtle, but it was there, in his eye. She gave him a look and he grinned as he set the mug down, keeping his large hands loosely wrapped around it.

"Haven't had coffee since livin' on Mars. Mama used to make it every morning. I'd wake up to the smell of it and we'd sit at the table, talkin' about nothing in particular while the pot slowly went empty."

There was a sadness in his voice that stirred something deep in Charley and just like that, in one pivotal moment, she stopped looking at Modo as a friend. Every emotion that involved him slowly shifted. It changed. Attraction that she'd been entirely unaware of rose to the surface. Appreciation for who he was and what he stood for became so much more compelling. The love she had for him manifested into something confusing and new that she knew she would never be able to ignore it.

"Charley-ma'am?"

His hand brushed hers and she jumped as a jolt fizzled through her body, settling somewhere low in her stomach and making her press her legs together self-consciously. She looked up, meeting his gaze, and her mouth went dry.

"You okay?"

She cleared her throat and nodded, forcing a smile to her lips. "Oh, I'm fine. Sorry. Just…haven't woken up yet." She caught the knowing look from her mother and chose to ignore it. "Did you sleep okay?"

The worry didn't leave his face entirely but he eased back, releasing her hand. "Slept great. Not use to having it so quiet. Usually Vin's snorin' keeps me up half the night so this has been nice."

"I bet," Charley returned. She forced herself to relax and tried to look more natural, though it took nearly everything in her not to remember the sight of him stretched out on the hide-a-bed, his large body taking up every inch of it.

"Charlene, you should probably jump in the shower before your father gets up," her mother said, giving her an instant out as if she'd known how quickly her daughter was going downhill. "He'll want one too and that man will take every bit of hot water if you don't beat him to it. When you're done, you can come down and help me get dinner ready."

Charley finished off her coffee and stood, feeling a rush of gratitude for her mother. "Will you be alright down here with her?" she asked as she passed Modo, unable to resist the temptation to touch his shoulder as she passed him.

"We'll be just fine, darlin'. Go, take a shower."

She didn't need to be told twice. Without a backwards glance, she hurried for the stairs, thinking about how hot water wasn't the issue since she'd be taking a cold shower.

Once she was gone, Florence turned to Modo and refilled his coffee cup. "Suppose I don't have to tell _you_ that you love the girl, do I?"

Modo chuckled and shook his head. All mamas were the same; know-it-all busy bodies who knew too much and weren't afraid to say it. "No, ma'am. Knew a while ago."

"Good boy."

Charley took her time showering, letting her thoughts run rampant as the water rushed over her body. By the time she emerged from the bathroom, toweling her damp hair, she felt less scattered and more like herself. She had her emotions in check and was relatively composed. Had her mother pointed out something she'd never noticed before? Yes. Was her perspective on Modo entirely changed now because of it? Absolutely. But she wasn't about to let it change how she acted around him. She couldn't. Not around her family.

She started down the stairs, her resolve to have a pleasant morning firmly in place. And firmly shattered when the doorbell rang.

"Got it!" Cassie called out, getting up from the couch and sauntering over to the door. She pulled it open with a flourish. "Aunt Bernadette! Uncle Harlow! Happy Thanksgiving."

Enter the last round of chaos – standing emotionless on the porch. Her Uncle Harlow looked so much like her father that the two could have been twins had it not been for Harlow's pallid features and comb over. Bernadette was…well, Bernadette was Bernadette. Her dyed red hair was short and curled, her makeup was as thick and tasteless as her chunky jewelry. She wore a brown pencil skirt that hung past her plump knees, black hose and dull pink flats that matched her blouse.

"Hello, dear," Bernadette said as she removed her coat, her tone clipped and precise. She breezed in through the door. She gripped Cassie's shoulder, leaned in and placed a smacking kiss on her cheek, leaving behind a trace of her deep red lipstick. "Just home for a visit or are you moving in again?"

"Just home for a visit," Cassie replied.

Though Charley was across the room, she could hear the strain in her sister's voice and saw the way she gritted her teeth to maintain the fake smile they all used when their aunt came to visit. And then her aunt's gaze shifted to where she stood. One brow winged up in mild surprise and Bernadette folded her hands in front of her.

"Well, well. Look who decided to grace us with her presence. Did that garage you're running all by yourself go under?"

Charley swallowed her pride and forced the same tight, overly bright smile Cassie had. "Hello, Aunt Bernadette," she greeted, taking the last two steps and crossing the room to her aunt for her greeting. If there was one thing Bernadette expected, it was for her nieces and nephew to act appropriately which meant ignoring her barbs and being gracious.

_All you can really do with that one is smile, no,d and play nice_ her mother had told her when she was old enough to understand Bernadette's games. Since then, she'd become a pro – matching her aunt move for move with ease. Hopefully today didn't change that.

Cassie held her hands up to form a make-believe gun, pointing it at her aunt and firing off a shot. Charley rolled her eyes at her sister's antics but the tension in her smile eased. Their animosity for their aunt was the one thing that they shared.

"Goodness. Put some weight on, girl." Bernadette stepped back, pressing a hand to her perfectly kept hair and frowning. "Don't you eat?"

"All the time." Charley moved to Harlow, giving him a hug. "Happy Thanksgiving, Uncle Harlow."

"You too, dear," he muttered back, then moved to the couch where he promptly picked up the remote and changed the television to a football game. He would be lost to that for the remainder of the afternoon, taking a break from it only long enough to get a beer and fill a plate. Her father would join him and together, they would sit in silence. It sometimes made her sad to think about the distance between her father and Harlow but knowing the distance she kept between herself and Cassie reminded her that she wasn't far off.

"So Cassie-."

With her aunt's attention once again on her sister, Charley made her escape to the kitchen. She smiled immediately, seeing her mother had wasted no time putting Modo to work. They stood at the counter together, her mother carrying on an easy conversation which Modo appeared to be listening intently to.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said.

"Oh! Good, you're back. Charley, could you be a dear and help Modo so that I can start on the casserole. It's the stuffing and Cassie-."

"Is busy entertaining the devil," Charley muttered, cutting her off. "Aunt Bernadette and Uncle Harlow are here." She took over for her mother, grinning up at Modo who was awkwardly chopping celery. "I should probably warn you about them. They're not…well, they're not the kindest people."

"Neither's Limburger," he shot back easily.

"Yes, well…they would probably make Limburger look like a saint on a good day."

Modo winced. "That ain't good."

"It's okay, big guy." Charley nudged him with her shoulder, trying to offer a little encouragement. "Just…do what the rest of us do. Smile, nod, and play nice."

The second the words were out of her mouth she felt the presence of her aunt behind her. It was almost as if the temperature in the room had dropped. If it was possible, Charley was positive that it would have.

"Oh, Bernadette!" Her mother said, forcing that same smile and wiping her hands on her apron. "So glad you could make it," she lied.

"I'm sure you are. I figured after last year with the turkey getting as dry as it did and the yams lacking any real flavor, you could probably use my help so I decided to come early and-."

She stopped talking all together which, for Bernadette, was unheard of when she was in the middle of one of her stinging criticisms.

_Please don't. Please keep your mouth shut,_ Charley begged, but knew it was pointless. She braced herself for impact, reaching out to grab Modo's hand and squeezing it. He looked down at it, confused. And then she spoke.

"What…in god's name…is _that?_"

Her voice was shrill, judgmental and condemning. How she was capable of pulling off that much in just a few words was beyond Charley. Not that she cared. What she did care about, however, was the man who's hand she was holding. The man who's face had started to register understanding as to why Charley was holding it.

"Bernadette, this is Modo," Florence handled the introduction, combating Bernadette's negativity and censure with optimism and approval. "He's a friend of Charley's and our guest this Thanksgiving."

"You can't be serious about having that _thing_ in your house, Florence. He's a rat!" Bernadette hissed.

Charley tightened her hand and turned to Modo, forgetting all about the stuffing, forgetting all about Thanksgiving. She silently pleaded him to remain in control and when she wasn't certain it would work, she whispered, "Don't let her get to you. This is what she does."

He closed his eye, drew in a deep breath and released it before turning to face the enemy and eliciting a very polite, "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

"It talks? Dear God in Heaven. This isn't right Florence. You can't possibly-."

"Oh, but I can," Florance bit out, all grace and kindness gone from her voice. "Modo is a guest in this house and you will treat him with respect or you can show yourself out. I know Mitchell wouldn't care for that. He very rarely sees his brother and it would devastate Mitchell to not have a chance to sit with Harlow for a while. I'm sure you can see reason."

Bernadette pursed her lips together, narrowing a glare on Modo. It was all she needed to make her point – she was not okay with him and would not hesitate to show him that. But not now. She spun and marched out of the kitchen, leaving behind room to breathe again which was exactly what Charley did, sagging heavily against the counter as she did so.

"Modo, I'm so sorry-," she started only to be cut off by him.

"No need to apologize, Charley-ma'am. Not like I've never faced off with a narrow minded human before."

"Yes, dear, but that was entirely uncalled for," Florence spoke up. She placed a hand on Modo's arm. "I won't hesitate to kick her out on her opinionated backside. You just say the word."

Modo chuckled softly. "No, ma'am. That's fine. I'll just…smile, nod, and play nice."

Florence laughed, giving his arm a quick squeeze before returning to her casserole.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Charley asked after the silence had stretched on for a while. He lifted the cutting board with the celery on it and Charley pulled a bowl over, helping him to dump it in with the seasonings she'd started throwing together.

"I've faced down my fair share of prejudiced people. Ain't nothin' I'm not used to."

"That didn't answer my question."

The smile he gave her didn't quite reach his face and that worried her. "I'll be just fine. Thanks for carin', Charley-ma'am."

"Yes…well. Don't thank me quite yet. The day's not even close to over and we still have dinner to get through."

Modo's face fell slightly. "Of all the days to forget my damn blaster."


	9. Tricky

**A/N:**This is disgraceful. I wanted this done by Thanksgiving. So much for that whole idea. But oh well, the timing isn't going to stop you all from reading, right? Sure hope not J Because things are about to get good….

**Tricky**

Though he'd told Charley that he could easily handle the prejudice of one narrow-minded, self-righteous woman, Modo decided that even a man like himself needed a break from it every now and then. There was handling it. Then there was being endlessly bombarded by it in underhanded ways that would turn anyone's stomach. And Bernadette wasn't just turning his stomach. She was tying it in triple knots.  
As soon as he could, he snuck out the back door, needing to breathe, to feel the cold air in his lungs burning away the hate and anger trying to cloud his mind. He let the door close softly behind him, went around the house and leaned against the wood siding with a sigh.  
"Fancy meeting you here," a low, female voice greeted him.  
He screwed his eye shut and bit back a foul curse. So much for getting away from it all.  
"Oh, relax," Cassie said with a laugh. "I'm harmless."  
Opening his eye, Modo rolled his head to the side to skeptically regard the woman. She was leaning against the house not far from him, wrapped in a thick wool coat, her stocking cap pulled over her hair and a cigarette between her gloved fingers. She lifted it, taking a long drag and exhaling the smoke slowly. She looked harmless enough.  
"Nate and I had a little chat this morning. And regardless of what my sister thinks of me, I would never stoop so low as to get in the way of the one man that might stand a chance at making her happy." She turned to look at him, all coyness wiped clean from her face. "I love my sister, Modo."  
He wasn't entirely sure what to say. She'd taken him off guard. Not many people, aside from Vinnie, could manage that.  
Cassie lifted a foot, putting the cigarette out on the heel of her boot and tossing it into a garbage can. She pushed away from the house and came to stand in front of him, tilting her head back. "I love my sister…but I think she needs to get a few things figured out. And I want to help her figure them out. She's not going to like me much for it and it might be confusing for you, but just go with it, okay?"  
"I-." Modo started. It might confuse him? He was already confused.  
Cassie patted him on the shoulder as she turned to go inside and still he couldn't manage a thing to say. Part of him wanted to run for it. A phone call to Throttle could have 'Lil Hoss there in a matter hours. Sure it might look a little off, a bike making its way down the freeway with no rider…but he'd be able to put some distance between himself, that nasty aunt of Charley's and whatever antics her little sister was up to.

Then there was the other part of him. The part that was downright curious.

He bided his time, still not up to being in a room with Bernadette. Instead, he enjoyed the chill serenity of the wintery afternoon, watching his breath fog in front of him and listening to the lazy traffic of the neighborhood – a dog barking, the occasional car passing by, the scrape of a shovel on the paved sidewalk. There was a peacefulness that existed here that one would never find on Mars. Or in Chicago for that matter. And moments like this, Modo enjoyed.  
Finally, knowing he could no longer put off the inevitable, he went back in, shrugging out of his coat and hanging it with the others in the back entryway. He could easily pick out Bernadette's voice from the others. She seemed to be constantly talking, always having an opinion at the ready.  
Charley came around the archway into the kitchen, looking slightly frazzled. "Hey, there you are," she said when she saw him. "Hungry? We're about to sit down to eat."  
"Sure am, Charley-ma'am. Just…needed to get some air."  
Sympathy clouded her eyes and she took his hand. "I'm sorry about her. Really, I am. She's got no filter."  
He shrugged, wincing when Bernadette's voice raised an octave as she instructed Nate on how to properly set a table. "Not much someone can do about a person like that," he muttered.  
Charlie hummed softly. "Except maybe help them jump off a cliff."  
Her words were so unlike anything he'd ever heard Charley say before that he couldn't help laughing. "Easy there," he leaned down close to her, dropping his voice so as not to be over heard by anyone. "Pretty sure there's no cliffs in Wisconsin."  
A blush spread over her cheeks and her eyes glowed with suppressed mirth. "There's a big lake. All we'd need is an ice auger…"  
Her voice drifted away and the humor in her eyes faded, replaced by something he couldn't quite place. All he knew was that it made his stomach knot – and not in the unpleasant way that Bernadette did. In a way that made him want to haul her into his arms and kiss her senseless.  
"Modo," she whispered, swaying slightly towards him.  
He reached for her arm, gripping it gently. He told himself it was to steady her. Instead, he was pulling her closer, aching for the distance between them to just…go away.  
"Charley, honey? Could you be a dear and grab some silverware?"  
Her mother's voice seemed to snap her out of her trance and she moved back a step, blinking several times. "Um, yeah mom," she called back. She looked up at him for a moment, her brows slightly drawn, then went around him to do as her mother requested.  
Modo waited for her, still trying to figure out what exactly had just happened. That look on her face-. Had she wanted to-?  
_No._ Modo shook his head and frowned. Charley saw him as a friend. Not a whole lot more than that as far as he knew. So what had that look meant?  
Charley started back out into the dining room and he followed her. Everyone was already taking their spots around the table. There were a few vacated seats at one end and Modo noticed that Bernadette had placed herself as far from that end and possible.  
_Good,_ he thought. _It's not as much distance as I'd like but it'll do._  
Charley made her way around the table, setting silverware beside plates and Modo took one of the open chairs. Cassie was immediately beside him, sliding into the seat and reaching for one of the open bottles of wine.  
"Want some?" she purred after pouring herself a glass. She leaned toward him and Modo tensed, automatically seeking out Charley. She was standing beside her father; her hand paused in the act of placing a fork beside his plate, her hard gaze on her sister.  
"Um, no, thank you, ma'am," he replied kindly.

Cassie gave a little pout and put the bottle back, then took her glass and sipped daintily from it.

Kati bounded over to him and hopped up in the other chair. "I wanna sit by you, Modo."

"Katrina, please," Bernadette said, ignoring Modo entirely. "That is hardly sanitary. Go sit by your father."

"I want to sit by Modo," Kati insisted.  
"Nate, could you please tell your daughter-."  
Nate smiled dangerously at his aunt before cutting her off. "If she wants to sit by Modo, she can sit by Modo."  
Bernadette snapped her mouth shut, favoring him with a glare before turning her attention back to her plate.  
Modo kept his comment to himself. He was happy that Nate had so easily put Bernadette in her place but he couldn't help the twinge of disappointment that Charley wouldn't be at his side.  
There was minimal conversation, mostly kept between Florence, Nate and Charley, as the food was passed around and heaped onto plates. It was more food than Modo had ever seen in one place – turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, yams, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole. He had no idea how Florence had managed to throw it together as quickly as she had and respected the woman on an entirely new level because of it.  
"So, Modo," Cassie murmured after he'd managed to clear half his plate. "Tell us about Mars." She toyed with her fork, smiling at him and reaching out to touch his arm lightly.  
He swallowed a mouthful of food. "Not much to tell, really. It's my home and there's a war goin'on there-."  
"A war?" Cassie gasped dramatically, her grip tightening on his arm. "You poor thing. Is that why you're here?"  
"Cass, really," Charley muttered. "I'm sure Modo's not in the mood to talk about war."  
"I suppose," Cassie said thoughtfully. Then her smile was back in full force. "Well, let's skip that then. Is there any special lady waiting for you up on Mars?"  
This time, Modo nearly choked. He took a large swig of water from his glass and cleared his throat before answering. "No, ma'am."  
"I find that incredibly hard to believe." She was stroking his arm now, her fingers playing over his fur. "Charley, don't you find that hard to believe?"  
"I find it hard to believe that you're insisting on this unsavory conversation," Bernadette interrupted, her tone dripping with disapproval. "This is a dinner table, Cassandra. It is no place to talk about something as distasteful as _aliens_. I would ask that you have some respect and pick conversational topics with some appeal."  
Modo watched Cassie force back a glare and as much as he wanted to admire her for it, he felt a bone deep trepidation. Judging from the flash of the young woman's eyes, she'd found her aunts words to be a challenge. A challenge she couldn't resist.  
"So you're a mouse then? For real?" she asked, still favoring him as the topic of conversation.  
Modo shifted uncomfortably, opening his mouth to answer her just to be interrupted once more by Bernadette.  
"Rodents really don't belong at the table. They should be in cages," she muttered as she cut her turkey and took a dainty bite.  
"Bernadette, that's enough," Florence warned.  
"Modo won't fit in a cage," Kati said matter-of-factly, frowning at her father when he hushed her.  
"Modo's not a _rodent,_" Cassie argued. "He's a hero. He should be treated like one." She turned to him and pressed her chest against his arm. "I personally find you amazing."  
"_Amazing_," Bernadette spat. "Really, I wanted to have an enjoyable Thanksgiving but if this is-."  
"You could have just stayed home," Cassie chirped kindly, her fake smile firmly in place. "Maybe Modo would like to give you a ride home. I could come with-."  
Suddenly, Charley pushed back from the table, setting her napkin aside. "Excuse me," she muttered before turning and nearly running for the stairs.  
"Well, that would explain why she's so thin," Bernadette huffed.

It took every ounce of willpower Modo had not to respond to Bernadette's contemptible implication. Every word his mama drilled into his head regarding manners and the right thing to do came screaming at him, one after another. Every _the woman deserves to be put in her place_ was met with a _never raise your voice to a woman._  
Before another argument could break out or the fragile control he maintained snapped, Modo pushed away from the table and went after Charley. It was the one time in his entire life that he'd left a table without being excused.

She couldn't get ups the stairs and away from the entire scene fast enough. And it wasn't just her aunt. Oh, she wished it had just been her aunt. But no, things couldn't be that simple. It was Cassie.

Seeing her sister was one thing. Seeing her sister cozy up to the man she had just recently figured out she had feelings for was another thing entirely. The emotions it stirred within her clashed violently with the one's that had just come to light earlier that morning. And she knew what it was. Jealousy. Nasty, consuming, jealousy that left a bad taste in her mouth and made her feel horribly shaky.

She closed her bedroom door behind her, feeling a shred of relief once there was a barrier between herself and her family. Resting her head on the cool wood, she forced herself to take calm, even breaths. She should pack. She should pack right now before anyone else showed up, throw everything in her blazer and drive away from everything, just like she'd done after graduation.

A knock sounded lightly on the door and she straightened, looking at it as if it had betrayed her.

"Charley?"

She melted against the door helplessly, the sound of Modo's voice making that ache deep within her so much more insistent.

"Charley's not here," she sang back softly.

"Aw, come on now, Charley-girl. It's just me. Open up."

And she would. Because it was him.

This was all so confusing. Yesterday, he'd been a friend. He'd been safety and security. Today, he was something else entirely – a man that stirred feelings in her that whatever emotions she'd had towards Vinnie or Throttle couldn't even touch. He wasn't dangerous – not in a physical sense. But whatever he was doing to her-.

She pulled the door open and let him slip in, closing it behind him. The room felt smaller with him in it. More intimate.

He turned to face her, concern clearly etched on his handsome features. "What happened down there, Charley?"  
"It's…nothing," she hedged, looking at the floor and wringing her hands together. "My aunt is incredibly insensitive and I just…my sister drives me insane sometimes."  
"Charley…that wasn't insane." His fingers pressed against her chin, forcing her to look up. "What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"  
Of course he would have to use the word pretty. Of course he would have to weaken her further than she already was. "Modo, really. It's-." And suddenly, she couldn't do it anymore. She wasn't good at anything beyond friendship. She was a mediocre flirt at best. And she was a horrible liar. "She's interested in you," she muttered despondently.  
His smile was slow and slightly shy. "Yeah well…that's pretty one sided considerin' I'm interested in someone else."  
She went still, her heart hammering against her ribs. "You…are?"  
"Yes, ma'am. Just happen to be lookin' right at her."  
Her breath left her in a trembling rush. "You're not serious."  
"Wouldn't have said it if I wasn't." His fingertips left her chin, brushing over her cheek bone and then settling at the nape of her neck. "Been interested in you since day one. Thought Vin might make a move and didn't say anything cuz' he's my bro and all…but ma'am, in all fairness, he didn't do right by you." His voice became nothing more than a deep lull, pulling her closer as he lowered his forehead to hers. "And I can."  
"Modo, I'm no good at this," she attempted pathetically, knowing she was fighting a losing battle and not entirely sure why she was even trying. "I just started figuring all of this out this morning."  
"My Charley givin' up before even tryin' somethin'? That don't seem right." His nose brushed hers and her breath caught. "Maybe we give it a shot before sayin' it's not gonna work, hm?"  
She swallowed hard and after a second's hesitation, nodded. She lifted a hand, curling it over his wrist. "Okay."  
His mouth brushed hers softly and even though it was nothing more than an innocent, searching peck, the effect was profound. She couldn't think straight. Her own legs would no longer hold her. Her heart raced, pulsating in her ears. She reached for him and he was there, his mouth slanting over hers as his arm came around her waist and pulled her close.  
When they broke apart, both breathing heavily, she looked up at him in complete awe. He'd been here all along, right in front of her face. And she'd never noticed. Well, she was noticing now. With a breathless laugh, she pulled him back down, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him with every ounce of repressed emotions, every bit of abandon she was feeling.  
His arm tightened around her waist. He was so solid, his muscles hard and corded, pressing against her in ways that made her ache to be touched by him.  
"You're not still hungry, are you?" she muttered against his mouth, unwilling to move away from him. "Because we're not going back down there."  
"Only thing I'm hungry for, darlin' is you."  
His voice, a deep, sensual rumble, made her shiver in anticipation. She suddenly couldn't get enough of him. It was like something in her had been set free, something that had sat motionless within her for too long and was now starving for human contact, for a man's touch, for the intimacy of something more than friendship.  
She pushed against him, trying to maneuver them towards the bed. Steps ahead of her, Modo's arm slipped low and lifted her until her legs were straddling his waist. She couldn't help it. She moaned at the sudden shift in position, her nails digging into his shoulder. His other hand was suddenly at her thigh, moving upwards in a painfully slow caress.  
"Bed," she whispered and he nodded, starting for it with quick, powerful strides. He was a man with a purpose and the fact that she was his purpose made her head swim.  
He laid her down carefully, lying down beside her. Charley slid her leg over his, pulling him down for a deeper kiss. But he pulled back, steadying himself on an elbow and looking down at her. He looked so serious.  
"Charley-girl. I think…I think there's somethin' I need to ask you." He lowered his forehead to hers and closed his eye. When he spoke, it was an uncertain murmur that twisted her heart and brought tears to her eyes. "Are you gonna let me love you, darlin'?"  
She swallowed, her vision clouding. She tried to find the words, tried to find her voice through the emotion stealing it away. "I will…if you can help me figure out how to love you," she whispered back.  
He opened his eye and smiled down at her in complete understanding. Had he not known her past, had he not known how deprived of human emotion she'd been, the statement could have been offensive. He ran a hand over her temple and kissed her forehead, her nose, then very softly her lips. "If it takes the rest of my life, it'll be damn worth it."  
His mouth hungrily stole over hers and she forgot how to think. She forgot about the family downstairs probably wondering where they were, the sister who seemed intent on making Modo her's, Throttle and Vinnie hundreds of miles away.

All that mattered was Modo and the things he was making her feel, the frantic drumming of her heart and the fact that they were alone behind a locked door where she had every intention of staying for the rest of the day.


End file.
